


Taking the High Road

by HarmonyLover



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode s03e11 Michael, Episode: s03e14 On My Way, Episode: s03e15 Big Brother, M/M, fill-in, post-ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonyLover/pseuds/HarmonyLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the slushie disaster, Kurt calls in reinforcements, Wes demands some answers from his Warblers, and Blaine finds some consolation in the truth. Warbler meta for "Michael" and "On My Way"; also deals a little bit with "Big Brother."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trufflemores](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores/gifts), [Zayrastriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zayrastriel/gifts).



> **Disclaimer** : I do not own any part of _Glee_ ; it all belongs to 20th Century Fox, Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> **Author’s Note** : I couldn’t bear what happened to the Warblers in “Michael.” Those weren’t our Warblers, and I couldn’t stand it. So this is my attempt at meta and redeeming my boys just a little bit. This story is dedicated to Trufflemores and Zayrastriel. As always, my deepest thanks to WickedForGood13 (mediaeval_authoress) for the beta.

****Taking the High Road** **

 

Kurt couldn’t stop shaking.

All through the previous evening, as he had ridden with Blaine in the back of the ambulance, as he had frantically called the Andersons and his father, as he had paced the waiting room hoping for news, he had been able to ignore his physical self, consumed with thoughts of Blaine and what was happening to him. He hadn’t even cried; the tension, fear, and anxiety he was feeling were too deep for tears.

It wasn’t until the doctors had temporarily released an exhausted and drugged Blaine to his parents’ care that Kurt had become painfully aware of his body. The Andersons had awkwardly allowed the boys to say goodbye, and as Kurt wrapped Blaine in his arms, whispering reassurances and promising to come visit him as soon as school was over the next day, he could suddenly feel the trembling in his arms and shoulders, feel the shaking in his hands as he caressed Blaine’s hair, feel the frantic thumping of his heart.

With soft “I love you”s, the two boys went to their respective homes, and Kurt had stared up at his ceiling long into the night, reliving again and again the terrible moment when Blaine had fallen to the asphalt, clutching his face and screaming. The shaking hadn’t stopped; it had continued until he slipped into an uneasy sleep, and he had used every ounce of willpower he had during school today to appear unaffected in the hallways. In class he could relax, to a point, but even then he had to force his fingers to hold his pen steadily and keep from hugging himself to control the trembling.

Kurt knew that most of his physical reaction was stemming from his emotions. He was terrified for Blaine, he was exhausted, he was furious at the Warblers, and as for Sebastian – towards Sebastian, he felt murderous.

He couldn’t condone his own violent impulses, but he _felt_ them.

Now, watching Blaine sleep peacefully after Rachel and Finn’s departure, Kurt knew he had to enlist help. The New Directions would do anything they could to teach Sebastian and the Warblers a lesson (in fact, Kurt was fairly certain that Santana was already at Dalton doing precisely that), but the problem was fundamentally deeper. The Warblers in that parking garage had not been the loving, upstanding boys he knew. Sebastian had frightened and intimidated them badly, and Kurt had no idea how. He wasn’t the one who was going to get the truth out of them, either.

Moving carefully, Kurt slipped his hand out of Blaine’s and reached over to the nightstand, picking up Blaine’s cell phone. He crept out into the hallway, shutting the door softly, and then scrolled through Blaine’s contacts until he found the number he wanted, glancing at his watch as he hit “Send.”

4:30. Perfect. It was only 1:30 in California. Kurt crossed his fingers as the phone on the other end began to ring.

“Blaine, are your morals slipping enough by going to public school that you’re skipping class to talk to me? I’m appalled,” said a teasing voice, and Kurt smiled sadly.

“Wes, it’s Kurt,” he said quietly.

There was a pause while Wes processed that, and when he spoke again he was all concern. “Kurt, why are you calling me on Blaine’s phone?”

“I didn’t have your number,” Kurt said regretfully. “I took Blaine’s phone because he’s sleeping, at the moment, and I didn’t know how else to reach you.”

“Is Blaine sleeping or drugged?” Wes asked, his voice dropping dangerously.

“Both,” Kurt answered, cringing as Wes cursed loudly.

“Blaine has a deeply scratched cornea and needs surgery, and they don’t know – they don’t know if all of his sight will come back in that eye,” Kurt explained, trying to sound comforting as he delivered the awful news.

“Kurt, what happened? Who was it?” Wes demanded, and Kurt could tell he was channeling his anger into questions, immediately going into management mode.

“That’s the worst part,” Kurt said, both chagrined and relieved to finally feel tears in his eyes. “It was the Warblers.”

“ _What_?” Wes exclaimed in shock. “Kurt, that’s not possible – they would never –”

“I know,” Kurt whispered, struggling to speak through the tightness in his throat. “It was meant for me, Wes, I’m so sorry. I’m going to be apologizing to Blaine for the rest of my life, but he leapt in front of it before I could even –”

“Whoa, whoa, Kurt, slow down,” Wes interrupted, trying to calm his friend. “One thing at a time.”

“Right,” Kurt said, swallowing. “Um, has anyone mentioned Sebastian Smythe to you?”

“Blaine did,” Wes said immediately. “He doesn’t like him at all, but he didn’t know how to get rid of him without being downright rude. I didn’t like the way Blaine sounded when we talked about it; Sebastian clearly makes him uncomfortable. Blaine is too nice for his own good,” Wes added. “Was it Sebastian that hurt him?”

“Yes, although he didn’t expect to hit Blaine,” Kurt affirmed. “The New Directions had arranged a sing-off with the Warblers because both groups wanted to do Michael Jackson for Regionals. Sebastian brought a slushie that was partly rock salt, meant for me. He hates me, and the feeling is quite mutual, but I never thought he would do something like that in front of the two groups. When we were all singing and dancing, the Warblers handed off the slushie to one another until Sebastian took it right at the end of the number. He started to throw it at me, and Blaine saw it coming and dove in front of it, which meant it went fully into his face and eyes. Hence the cornea scratch. And the Warblers just let Sebastian do it. God, Wes, Blaine was on the ground _screaming,_ and they just walked away.”

Kurt could almost hear Wes’s incredulity through the silence on the other end, and when he spoke his voice had become deadly quiet.

“Tell me every single time you have seen this Sebastian. Tell me anything you know about the Warblers since I have been gone, Kurt. Don’t leave anything out; I don’t know what’s important yet.”

So Kurt went back to the beginning. He told Wes about Blaine meeting Sebastian for the first time at Dalton, when he had gone to deliver tickets for _West Side Story_. He told him about Nick and Trent’s joyous greetings and the former singing lead. He recounted Sebastian’s flirting and blatant propositioning, some of which he had seen and heard about and some of which he only guessed at. He gave Wes a (slightly abbreviated) summary of their trip to Scandals and their subsequent fight. The phone calls. Sebastian’s threats two days ago in the Lima Bean. Finally, the painful details of the garage sing-off, in which Blaine had taken a slushie clearly meant for Kurt and paid dearly for it, while his former teammates watched the entire incident and then left.

“I – Wes, I don’t understand,” Kurt finished, succumbing to his tears. “Blaine feels so betrayed. Luckily he hasn’t been coherent enough to think about it much, but in the brief periods when he’s completely lucid, I can see it in his face. When he really has the time and the mental power to process what happened, he’s going to be devastated. You all were his family, Wes! Dalton was his home! _I_ feel betrayed, and I was never really a Warbler, not like –”

“Yes, you were,” Wes cut in emphatically. “You weren’t one of us for long, Kurt, but you were a Warbler. Don’t ever think otherwise. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m going to find out. Can you leave your phone on from now on? I’ll probably need to call you again. Take my number from Blaine’s phone and text me your cell phone number.”

“Of course,” Kurt nodded. “I’ll do it right now.”

“Good,” Wes said. “I’ll be in touch soon. Tell Blaine to get better and to let you take care of him.”

Kurt managed a smile. “He doesn’t really have a choice about that.”

“I know,” Wes said, and Kurt could hear the thankfulness in his voice.

* * *

Warblers’ practice the second day after the sing-off was a tense affair. Santana’s appearance at Dalton and her subsequent revelations about Blaine had left the older members of the group shaken, and even the younger ones seemed subdued. Sebastian was projecting his usual confident swagger, but he seemed to sense that something had shifted. When he wasn’t singing, he was markedly less talkative, only throwing out the occasional snarky comment.

When the door to Warbler’s Hall was unceremoniously banged open at half past four, it was enough to freeze everyone in the room. Their rehearsals were never interrupted, and given the edginess everyone was feeling, the interruption was just another indicator that something was very wrong.

A furious Asian man stood in the doorway, taking in the positions of each Warbler in the room.

“Wes,” David breathed, his shoulders slumping in something that was suspiciously like relief.

“You, you, you, and you,” Wes ordered without preamble, pointing at David, Nick, Jeff, and Trent in turn. “Here. _Now._ ”

The former two stood from their positions at the council table without question, and the latter two moved from the formation of singers behind Sebastian. The four of them filed out, still silent, creating a small knot behind Wes. Not one of the younger Warblers said a word; they were too shocked at seeing several of their senior members taking orders to voice any objections.

Sebastian, however, had no compunction about speaking.

“Look,” he said hotly, “I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t just barge in here, disrupt our practice, and summon our singers like sheep.”

“Oh, yes, I can,” Wes said, striding forward to stand in front of Sebastian. The expression on his face was predatory, and despite the substantial difference in their heights, Sebastian found himself taking a step back. “Wes Montgomery, former Head Warbler. You’ll find that most of the singers in this room know very well who I am.”

He moved away from Sebastian long enough to address the group as a whole. “Warblers’ practice is over for the day, with permission of the headmaster. Unless any of you would like to personally experience my displeasure, I suggest you leave.”

The boys moved, packing bags and exiting with almost no noise. When the last of them had departed, leaving only the group by the door, Wes turned back to Sebastian. 

“Wes Montgomery, huh?” Sebastian said with a smirk. “The one with the gavel?”

Wes ignore the jibe, taking hold of Sebastian’s blazer and moving him bodily into one of the massive support beams for the windows at the side of the room. Taken by surprise, Sebastian only made a small sound of protest before the breath was knocked out of him by the post at his back.

“You listen to me, you reprehensible excuse for a human being,” Wes snarled, his face only inches from Sebastian’s. “You injured, perhaps irreparably, my best friend in the world. You _attempted_ to injure his boyfriend, the first person to make him truly happy in heaven knows how long. I don’t know what you’ve said or done to the Warblers to make them fear you, but I promise you I will find out. And trust me when I tell you that being expelled from Dalton and charged with assault will be a heavy blow to your father’s reelection campaign. Somehow I don’t think that would make him happy.”

Wes gave Sebastian another shove, ramming him into the pillar one last time before releasing him. “If you ever touch my friends again, Smythe, you will regret it.”

Sebastian glared, straightening his crumpled shirt and blazer, but Wes could see the fear lurking behind the defiance in his eyes. “They’re even more pathetic than I thought, if they need you to protect them,” he spat.

Wes smiled an absolutely humorless smile. “I can’t speak for Kurt, but if you were ever stupid enough to try and fight Blaine, you would learn the hard way how untrue that is. They don’t need me to do anything. They’ve dealt with selfish, scared bullies like you their entire lives, and they are both compassionate people who take the high road. I protect them because I choose to – and I don’t always share their scruples.”

The warning was clear, and Wes walked to the door without another word, where his friends were staring with wide eyes. He spoke to David and Nick without slowing his pace. “Your room. Let’s go.”

* * *

Once the five of them had found sanctuary in David and Nick’s room, the four current Warblers found seats on the beds and at the desks while Wes closed and locked the door. He remained standing, studying each of them in turn. They all seemed tired, defeated, as though they didn’t know how to fix the mess they were in and weren’t sure how they had gotten into it in the first place. None of them could look at Wes, thought they stole guilty glances at each other.

 “I’ll wait,” Wes finally said into the silence, his voice stern. “I just took a 7 a.m. flight from California, and it’s earlier in the day for my body than it is for yours. We can stay here all night, but you are going to tell me what possessed you to be complicit in this. How could you help that _vermin_ hurt Kurt and Blaine? How did he even become a Warbler to begin with?”

Still silence.

Wes sighed, running his hands through his hair. “David,” he appealed to his friend, his voice softening, David glanced up, reluctantly, and Wes ached inside when he saw the misery on David’s face. “You have always been my closest friend, since we both became students here. Why didn’t I know about this? About what Smythe was doing? Tell me what happened.”

“He – it –” David cleared his throat, trying to get the roughness out of his voice. “It wasn’t supposed to be Blaine, Wes. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

“Yes, I know,” Wes said flatly. “The slushie was meant for Kurt. How does that make any of this better? Kurt was a Warbler, too, not to mention that he is Blaine’s _boyfriend_. You had to know that Blaine would follow his idiotically noble instincts.”

“We didn’t, actually,” Jeff muttered, and Wes glared at him.

“You should have,” he said sharply.

David’s eyebrows had gone up in surprise as Wes revealed just how much information he had, but comprehension swept his features a moment later. His eyes met Wes’s, and Wes inclined his head minutely; David understood that he had talked to Kurt.

“It was the lesser of two evils,” David whispered. “It was only going to be a slushie. Kurt has taken those before; all the New Directions have.  We didn’t like it, but we knew he could handle it. Kurt is tough; he’s not going to be intimidated by anything Sebastian does.”

“We didn’t know that Sebastian had mixed rock salt into it,” Nick said, speaking up for the first time. “We had no idea – though I suppose we should be expecting his tactics by now,” he conceded bitterly.

Wes closed his eyes momentarily, storing up questions in his mind, before turning back to David. “If the slushie was the lesser of two evils, what was the greater of the two?”

“It was Blaine we were trying to protect in the first place,” David confessed, hos voice still low. “Sebastian said that if we didn’t agree to the slushie, he would go after Blaine – _really_ go after him,” he emphasized. “His exact words were, ‘I’ll go rough up your precious Blaine Warbler until he can’t compete at Regionals.’”

David had tears in his eyes now, his tone entreating Wes to understand. “Wes, you know what happened to him! We couldn’t let anyone do that to him, not again. I know he can defend himself now – we both know how capable he is of that – but I’m not sure he could bear it, and I’m not sure Kurt could either. It took so much for you and I to help him when he first came here, and if he had to go through it again –” David broke off, shaking his head and pressing his lips together tightly.

Seeing that David was momentarily incapable of speaking, Nick took up the thread. “The minute Sebastian steps off of school grounds, it becomes much harder for the headmaster to do anything to him. Blaine isn’t a student here anymore, and if Sebastian went to McKinley and beat him up, Blaine would have to come here to accuse him. The headmaster could still expel Sebastian for misconduct, but making that happen gets a lot more complicated. Sebastian is an incredible liar, Wes, and if he was careful enough and no one saw him hurt Blaine, it would be nothing but Blaine’s word against his. We didn’t want to give him the chance to make good on his threat. We hoped that he would use the slushie on Kurt and be done with it, and at least we would be there to prevent anything worse.”

“What if he had decided to go after Blaine anyway?” Wes asked, questioning Jeff this time. “What if he had simply lied to you about his little ‘deal’ and still tried to incapacitate Blaine in some way? He’s certainly done a good job of it now, even if it wasn’t his intention.”

“It was the wrong decision,” Jeff admitted. “We should never have agreed, but we were trying, Wes. We were trying to protect Blaine. Sebastian makes everyone uneasy at the best of times, and at his worst he is downright frightening. He’s not _stable_.”

“When he first joined the Warblers, he seemed nice enough, and he’s a good singer,” Trent chimed in. “He’s more than a little arrogant, but that’s nothing we haven’t seen before. The Warblers usually manage to mellow out anyone who comes in with delusions of grandeur. You were really good at that,” Trent added, cracking a small smile at Wes. “But then he started trying to beat out people for solos, arguing with the council, and cozying up to the underclassmen. They’re fascinated by him, even though half the things he says about himself probably aren’t true, and he’s smart enough to cultivate their loyalty. It was when he decided to come after us that everything got really out of control.”

Here Trent paused, and sent a nervous glance toward Nick and Jeff. Jeff had his hands clenched into fists in his lap, and Nick had a tense hand on Jeff’s forearm, a gesture that seemed partially meant for reassurance, but also it appeared as though Nick was forcibly keeping himself from clinging to Jeff. Wes took in their posture and his eyes narrowed.

“What did he do?” Wes asked carefully, keeping his voice soft. His friends both seemed ready to either bolt away or completely close down, and Wes didn’t want to provoke either reaction.

Jeff opened his mouth, but then closed it again, making a helpless motion with his shoulders, and Nick had to speak for both of them. “Let’s just say that Blaine isn’t the only one Sebastian has propositioned,” Nick said tightly. “He’s made . . . highly suggestive comments and offers to both of us on multiple occasions. I don’t _think_ he would get violent about it, but boundaries and committed partnerships mean absolutely nothing to him. We’ve both told him to back off, in strong terms, and he just _won’t_. He has complete tunnel vision when it comes to getting what he wants. Sexual conquest seems to be one of those things. I can only imagine what he’s said to Blaine. I’m almost relieved that Sebastian hates Kurt, as terrible as that is to say. At least there, Kurt will be on his guard – and as long as the insults are verbal, you know he can give as good as he gets,” Nick ended wryly.

“I have a feeling our countertenor has some hidden talents in terms of self-defense,” Wes said reflectively. “If not, Blaine will make sure he acquires some, especially after this.”

“Sebastian has insulted Trent and me, too,” David said furiously, his anger at the bully coming to the surface. “He’s a bigot, Wes, plain and simple. Anyone who doesn’t fit into his privileged little world might as well be dirt on his shoes, and he lets them know it.”

Wes finally sat, nudging over Nick and Jeff until he could sit next to them. “Guys,” he said forcefully, “you have to report all of this. I know Sebastian is intimidating and volatile, and he’s obviously relentless, but Dalton has a no-tolerance bullying policy for a reason. Headmaster Davis is going to take all of these things seriously if you tell him, but you have to _tell_ him. He’s already angry; when I showed up and told him the basics of what had happened to Blaine, he was horrified. Off school grounds or not, Sebastian is still a Dalton student, and if he behaves badly, it reflects badly on the institution. Davis may not be able to do everything he wants to, but if he has all the facts at his disposal, he will do _something_. You can’t let Sebastian get away with all of this. Blaine could easily press charges against him, but I don’t know if he will.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Trent said incredulously. “Sebastian might have blinded him!”

Wes sighed again, then shrugged. “This is Blaine we’re talking about,” he said. “If all of this has made him angry enough, he’ll press charges. But if everything turns out fine, he’s going to hate the idea of Sebastian’s expulsion, of going to court, of Sebastian not being at Regionals. Kurt won’t like it, either.”

“Blaine wouldn’t be fighting violence with violence, though, Wes,” Nick said, aghast. “He would actually be getting help from the system that is supposed to help him! How often has that happened in his life? He has a chance here to actually say this isn’t right and do something about it!”

“He does,” Wes acknowledged. “He also likes to find the best in people. He’s going to hope that Sebastian can be different, that he’ll choose to be different.”

“Not likely,” David growled.  

“That’s not up to us,” Wes said. “That’s up to Blaine. What _is_ up to us is how we handle it here at Dalton.”

“We’ll tell Headmaster Davis,” Trent said instantly, and the other boys nodded their agreement. “This can’t keep happening.”

“If you think that part of what Blaine and Kurt are going to want is a fair chance to beat us at Regionals, then Sebastian stays in the Wablers unless Davis says he’s out,” Nick said. “I don’t like it, but he can stay, as long as the rest of the Council agrees. Sebastian started this unfriendly competition, so he can be there to finish it. He doesn't get to sabotage us and the New Directions and then walk away."  
  
"I agree," David said promptly. "That's two-thirds of the council down."  
  
"Good," Wes said approvingly. "I'm sure Cameron will consent once he knows what you're all thinking. Sebastian hasn't taken over this group yet, not entirely. Between Davis and the Council, you should be able to keep Sebastian in line. Now that we've agreed on that, we need to talk about the other problem here."  
  
"Other problem?" Trent asked in confusion.  
  
Jeff answered for the other three in the room. "We left," he said bleakly.

"You left," Wes repeated for emphasis, his voice becoming harsh again.

Trent surveyed the other boys. “We shouldn’t have left,” he said slowly, “and I know that, and I feel horrible about it. I’ve always liked Blaine, and he’s always been kind to me. We should have stayed and made sure he got help, and hang Sebastian and the other Warblers. That’s not what’s going on here, though, is it?”

“No,” David said wearily. “After the Sadie Hawkins dance – you know about that?” he asked, pausing, and Trent nodded.

“Not everything,” he said cautiously, “but some. I know that Blaine told you all more than he ever told the rest of us.”

 “The boys who beat Blaine and his friend just left them on the ground,” David said bluntly. “Just left them for someone to find.  Luckily his friend’s father showed up shortly after it happened and called an ambulance. They both ended up in the hospital.  Blaine had cracked ribs, a broken clavicle, too many bruises to count, and he was out cold; I don’t know about the other boy. From what I understand, Blaine’s mother insisted on the transfer to Dalton, and his father simply signed and paid for everything, all without having so much as a single conversation with Blaine. Blaine’s never been close to his father since, and his mother is basically caught between the two of them. For all intents and purposes, they gave Blaine to the care of Dalton and the Warblers.”

Trent’s brow was furrowed as he tried to take in what David was telling him, his concentration plain. “So not only did he get abandoned on the pavement by the guys who beat the crap out of him, but his parents disappeared as well.”

“That’s about it,” Jeff said grimly, his green eyes full of sorrow and empathy. “You didn’t know him when he first came here, Trent, but he was completely withdrawn. If it hadn’t been for those two,” he said, nodding toward Wes and David, “he might have stayed that way.”      

“He was unfailingly polite,” Wes said, and David grinned at the description in spite of himself, “but it was like he had no personality at all. We couldn’t get anything out of him. He was terrified to let anyone in. It took us more than a week to actually get him to laugh – and we were trying every trick we knew,” he said fondly, thinking of the friendship that had evolved out of that first week of coaxing and cajoling. “We were a more than a little horrified at the state he was in; he just seemed so _broken_. David and I bugged the life out of him until he started to like us and accept that we wanted to be his friends. When we caught him playing the guitar and singing in his room one day, we tried to talk him into joining the Warblers, but it took us until just before Christmas break to get him to audition.”

“Once he did, it was like seeing an entirely different person,” David said softly. “He was really nervous, but he was amazing when he was performing, and we knew he would just get better. Wes and I told some of the other Warblers the basics of what had happened to him – not that he was gay; we would never have done that,” he amended hastily, “but how he had been bullied and hurt. Jeff, Nick, Cameron, and Thad especially were good to him after that, and he – we really became his family,” David finished, almost inaudibly.

“Wow,” Trent breathed, blanching as realization hit him. “So now he thinks we –”

“Yes,” Nick said in frustration, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Damn it, _yes_. All because of that snake downstairs. I didn’t want to walk away when Blaine was hurt; I didn’t want to leave him there. I just felt so shocked and so ashamed by what had happened. We were trying to protect him, and he ended up getting hurt anyway, and suddenly instead of being his family we were his enemies. I hated the way that felt. He has the New Directions and he has Kurt and he’s _brilliant_ with them. Why does he need us?” he asked rhetorically, surprising even himself with the amount of hurt in his voice.

Wes considered him for a moment before putting an arm around Nick’s shoulders. “You were trying to help him, and he needs that. More than you know, more than he knows most of the time,” he said gently. “It may have turned out badly, it may have been the wrong decision, but you were trying to help him. I know that it hurt you – all of you – that he left Dalton, but it was never about choosing Kurt over us. Blaine needed to go to McKinley for himself. He needed to prove to himself that he’s strong enough: strong enough to be there for Kurt, strong enough to stand up to every Karofsky and Sebastian in the world. You know he’s always regretted running from his old bullies.”

David scoffed, derision warring with exasperated affection as he spoke. “He’s an idiot. Self-preservation is not cowardice, not ‘running.’ It took more strength than I can imagine to start over again when he came here, following his heart and showing his real self to the world. He’s always been strong enough.”

Wes met David’s eyes again. “You know that, and I know that, but we can’t convince him of that. He has to convince himself.”

“Kurt gives him strength, too,” Jeff said unexpectedly. “They give strength to each other. I know how that feels,” he said, smiling warmly at Nick, who squeezed his hand in gratitude. The smile quickly faded into a frown, though, as Jeff articulated his next thought. “We owe both Blaine and Kurt an apology and an explanation. Kurt was part of this group as well, and we never should have let Sebastian target either of them. It’s not going to be easy to get them to forgive us.”

“It won’t be easy,” Wes agreed solemnly. “You’re right. All you can do is apologize and explain, and after that, you have to show Blaine and Kurt that their friendship is important enough to fight for.”

“We will,” David said determinedly. “I’m not sure how yet, but we will.”

* * *

Kurt’s voice broke into the quiet cloud of sleep surrounding him.

“Blaine.”

Kurt really did have the most beautiful voice in the world.

“Blaine, sweetie, wake up.”

There was a soft touch on his shoulder, and Blaine rolled over, opening his one eye that was not bandaged and covered and blinking groggily until Kurt’s blue eyes came into focus.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Kurt smiled, brushing gentle fingers through Blaine’s hair. “Someone’s here to see you. Do you feel up to having a visitor?”

“Sure,” Blaine said, struggling to sit up. Kurt helped him adjust his pillows and retie his robe, and then kissed him long and sweetly before pulling back. “Who is it?”

“Ah, ah, ah, that would be telling,” Kurt said, grinning and waving a finger at him. “Give me just a minute.”

Kurt disappeared out the door, leaving Blaine to wonder who had come to see him. He reached over to the nightstand and carefully retrieved his glass of water, relishing the cool liquid as it slid down his throat. He replaced the glass just as he heard steps in the hallway.

He had never been more surprised in his life than when Wes appeared.

“Wes!” he exclaimed, feeling his first genuine smile in three days break over his face. “What are you doing here? How on earth did you get here?”

“Well, a little birdie told me about your aspirations to become a pirate, and I decided to use some of my many frequent flyer miles to come see for myself,” Wes joked as he walked into the room and around the bed. “Way to rock the eyepatch,” he chuckled as he sat down and wrapped Blaine into a hug.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Blaine said, burying his face in Wes’s shoulder and clinging to the fabric of his gray suit.

“I’m glad to see you, too – though I wish it hadn’t been because of this,” Wes answered, tightening his arms.

“So do I,” Blaine said, his voice breaking a little.

Blaine missed the concerned but silent exchange Wes shared with Kurt over his shoulder; he was overwhelmed by the feeling that he was suddenly fourteen again, much more the terrified boy he had been than the person he had become over the last three and a half years. Wes had helped him then and would surely help him now.

Wes held Blaine wordlessly for several minutes, and Blaine mentally acknowledged that he desperately needed the comfort. Otherwise, he would have been objecting much more vociferously to the fact that Wes was there at all.

Blaine finally let go first, and as he did so, he gave Wes a halfhearted, affectionate shove on the shoulder. “You overprotective idiot. You didn’t have to come out here for me. I’m fine.”

Wes raised an eyebrow, and Blaine read his thoughts clearly. _There are the objections I was expecting. And sure, you are. Tell me another one._

“I did myself the great favor of going to school in California while my parents live in Chicago,” Wes said aloud, keeping his tone light. “The miles on those flights alone give me the ability to come see a friend every now and then, Warbler Blaine. As it happened, this time I wanted to see you.”

Blaine shook his head, but he was smiling. “Just coincidentally,” he said sarcastically. “Especially after my own little birdie called you,” he said, glancing at Kurt. Kurt stared right back at him, unperturbed and raising his chin a little in defiance. Blaine suddenly realized that when Kurt hadn’t been attempting to cheer him up, he had been feeling both guilty and fearful; he had been eating himself alive over the fact that Blaine had done this for _him_ , been injured for _him_. He was terrified Blaine would come out of this with yet more scars, both physical and unseen. Blaine’s heart smote him; Kurt had called Wes because he couldn’t bear seeing Blaine so upset and feeling so helpless, and Blaine was practically reprimanding him for it.

“Blaine, you are not ‘fine,’ and neither you nor I are going to be able to fix what’s wrong here,” Kurt said, a little sharply. “I didn’t ask Wes to come, but I was hoping he would help us deal with the Warblers, since I can’t even begin to understand what’s happening in their heads. When he called me back and told me he was flying out here, I wasn’t about to stop him. You need your friends right now.”

Blaine sighed, his body slumping and his eyes darkening as he ran his hands through his hair, careful not to touch his bandaged eye. “Well, apparently I have fewer of those than I thought,” he said tiredly, pained resignation seeping into his voice. “Thank you,” he added quietly, reaching for Kurt’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, too, Wes,” he said, turning to his old friend. “You didn’t have to, but – I’m grateful you did.”

“Of course I had to. What else are friends for?” Wes answered. “And you’re wrong about the Warblers – well, those of them that you knew, at least,” he amended. Both Blaine and Kurt regarded him with surprise.

“I paid a little visit to Dalton before I came to see you,” Wes explained.

Kurt didn’t seem surprised, although perhaps a little worried, and Blaine wondered how much he had talked to Wes in the last twenty four hours. Blaine was apprehensive, though, knowing how Wes could be when he was riled up. “Wes. What did you do?” he demanded.

“Oh, I had a short conversation with Headmaster Davis, for starters,” Wes said with a self-satisfied smile. “I explained what Sebastian had done to you, and Davis agreed that he needs to be watched closely. He is also going to have a nice little chat with Sebastian and make it clear that there will be extreme consequences if there are any more reports of him assaulting or attempting to injure anyone inside or outside of Dalton.”

“I can’t believe it,” Blaine murmured. He was so grateful that Wes was here and concerned about what had happened to him, but he had somehow never expected _this_. After watching (or rather, hearing) all of his other Dalton friends walk away from him, through the haze of red slushie and burning pain, Blaine had never felt so betrayed or desolate. His friends had suddenly become unrecognizable; the school that had been his home had become just another place that was closed to him. During the past three days, the few emotions that had worked their way through the haze of painkillers had been so painful that he had done everything he could to shut them out. To have Wes here, solid and comforting and still the friend he had known, soothed the ache in his heart, and to hear that he had gone to their old headmaster for help was almost too much.

“You should,” Wes said frankly. “Davis always liked you, Blaine, and you were a Dalton student for three years. He knows what you went through before you transferred to Dalton, and I don’t get the impression that he likes Smythe very much. I’m not sure that anyone could,” he said with a grimace.

“Did you talk to him?” Kurt asked, and Blaine could see the worry in his face now, the anxiety crinkling the corners of his eyes and tightening his lips.

Wes smiled coldly. “You might say that.”

“Wes, tell me you didn’t,” Blaine implored him, dread pooling in his stomach. “It’s only going to make things worse, you know that, and it could make trouble for you. Sebastian could make trouble for you.”

“Oh, I didn’t _actually_ hurt him,” Wes said calmly, his tone belying the tense set of his shoulders. “But I made it very clear to him that I could and would, if he didn’t leave the two of you alone. I reminded him that he could get expelled and charged with assault, and that neither of those things would sit very well with his father when the state’s attorney wants to run for reelection. Smythe needs to know that there are some people who aren’t afraid of him or his family name. He’s a terrified coward, underneath it all.”

“I had a feeling,” Kurt said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t right, Wes. I hate Sebastian, and I hate him even more now for what he’s done to Blaine and what he tried to do to me, but fighting him isn’t going to fix anything. You can’t solve bullying with more bullying.”

“You can solve assault by pressing charges,” Wes said candidly, and Blaine winced. He and Kurt had talked about this briefly in the last couple of days, and while they agreed that a formal charge would almost certainly be successful, and it would remove Sebastian’s threats and harassment from their lives, neither were sure it was the best course of action.

“I know,” Blaine said softly. “I haven’t decided about that yet. Sebastian’s not a nice person, but he needs help, Wes, not prison.”

Wes snorted. “He wouldn’t get prison, Blaine. He probably wouldn’t get anything, given who his father is, but being in court might make him think twice about trying to hurt you again.”

“He was trying to hurt Kurt, not me,” Blaine said in confusion. “Wasn’t he?” He was working very hard to interpret the expression on Wes’s face, but whether it was the effects of the medication he was on or the emotional aftereffects of what he had been through, he couldn’t manage to do it. Sebastian had been trying to hurt him? But how could he have known . . . ?

Kurt made the connection first, and his blue eyes went wide. “He wanted to hurt Blaine, and the Warblers wouldn’t let him,” he breathed. “Is that what you meant about the Warblers, Wes? They were trying to keep him from hurting Blaine?”

“Yes,” Wes nodded, trying to gauge how his friends were going to react to the news. “They went about it the wrong way, but they were trying to protect you, Blaine. I dragged David, Nick, Jeff, and Trent upstairs and made them explain. Sebastian has been threatening and intimidating them in multiple ways since he joined the Warblers, and he’s fractured the group pretty badly. He has the loyalty of some of the younger members, and he makes the lives of the upperclassmen miserable. He demanded to slushie Kurt at the sing-off, and if the Warblers didn’t agree, he threatened to beat you up until you couldn’t compete at Regionals.”

Kurt gasped. “No,” he choked, and Blaine automatically reached for him, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist as Kurt wound his arms around Blaine and tucked his head into Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine stroked Kurt’s hair, and he could feel Kurt’s tears falling on his pajamas.

“I’m here, Kurt, I’m fine,” he said soothingly.  

Kurt stiffened and then pulled away, and Blaine stared in shock as his boyfriend stood and glared at him, fists clenched. Wes was also regarding Kurt with surprise; Blaine wasn’t sure that his friend had ever seen Kurt truly angry.

“You are not ‘fine,’ Blaine!” Kurt snapped, the composed stubbornness from earlier now completely replaced with fury. “Please stop trying to tell me that you are! That insufferable prig could have left you blind in one eye, and I know that frightens you! It frightens _me_ , and I have to live with the fact that you dove in front of that slushie in the first place to keep me from being hurt! I love you for it, but I’m so _scared_ for you – and I _hate_ that we have to live with things like this, with this kind of hatred – and I _wish_ it had been me! You have been through _enough_!”

Kurt swiped at his cheeks furiously as tears fell down his face, and Blaine felt his heart constrict. He reached out for Kurt and grabbed his wrists, forcibly tugging him back down, but Kurt wouldn’t meet his gaze, staring at his hands as if ashamed of his outburst. “Kurt,” he said urgently, framing Kurt’s face with his hands and tenderly wiping away more tears. “Kurt, please look at me,” he pleaded, and Kurt reluctantly lifted his eyes to Blaine, anger, pain, and regret still swirling in his face.

“I am afraid,” Blaine admitted. It was the first time he’d said it out loud, and he felt the tremor that went through Kurt at his admission. “I am afraid that my eye won’t heal, that there will be damage - but I would do the same thing again. I don’t regret it. I love you, and I am not going to stand by and willingly let someone hurt you, not ever. You have been through just as much as I have, and you don’t deserve this kind of injury any more than I do. You wish it had been you – and I’m just grateful that it wasn’t, this time.”

“I love you,” Kurt whispered, leaning into one of Blaine’s hands and then the other, kissing his palms. “I love you so much. I’m sorry I yelled; I shouldn’t have. I’m so sorry for all of this.”

“And _none of it_ is your fault,” Blaine emphasized, leaning in to kiss Kurt on the lips. “I love you, too, and you have a right to yell and be angry about this. We both do. I know that, had Sebastian tried to throw that slushie at me, you would have done exactly what I did without a moment’s thought. Had he come to McKinley and tried to hurt me, you would have fought him yourself rather than let him touch me – not that I would have wanted you to, but I know you would have, given the choice. No matter what Sebastian does, Kurt, he can’t touch us or what we have,” Blaine smiled. “Not unless we let him. A very wise person taught me that.”

Kurt smiled, his lips still trembling, and he moved so that he could embrace Blaine. The two of them sat in silence for several minutes, comforting each other, while Wes observed them thoughtfully.

“Taking the high road, as always,” he said admiringly. “I told the Warblers you would. I told _Sebastian_ you would, come to think of it.”

His two friends pulled apart and turned to him. “If we don’t, we’re no better than he is,” Blaine said seriously.

“Santana and I have a plan,” Kurt told Wes, a mischievous smirk on his face. “I think it will let us send Sebastian a message and – hopefully – mend bridges with the Warblers.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive them for using you as a sacrificial lamb,” Blaine said to him, “but I’m glad to know that their hearts were in the right place. I wouldn’t have known that if it wasn’t for you,” he said to Wes, giving him a grateful smile. “Thank you. I don’t want to lose another family.”

Wes hid the inner pang he felt at Blaine’s words, one of the rare open acknowledgements of how absent the elder Andersons were in their son’s life. “I would never let that happen, and they won’t either,” Wes promised him.  “I don’t think they expect either of you to forgive them right away, but they’ll do everything they can to make it up to you.”

“I think I can live with that,” Blaine said, leaning his head back against the headboard with a tired sigh. His eye was beginning to pain him again; it was amazing how exhausted he was simply from the constant ache and continuous medication.

Kurt spoke up then, and Blaine cracked his good eye open at the playfulness in Kurt’s tone. “Does this mean I can still call you Blaine Warbler?” he asked cheekily, and both Blaine and Wes grinned.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Blaine assured him.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Warblers apologize to Blaine, and the New Directions deal with Sebastian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own any part of _Glee_ ; it all belongs to 20th Century Fox, Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, et al. I write these stories purely for enjoyment; no copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> **Author’s Note** : The lovely jtangel requested a follow-up chapter in which we actually see the Warblers apologize to Blaine. This is my attempt at fulfilling that request – and it also gave me a chance to deal with some of the occurrences in “On My Way” and “Big Brother.” The first two lines of this chapter come from the end of “Michael,” and belong to the Glee writers. There is also the brief conversation between Blaine and Kurt in “On My Way” that likewise belongs to them. “Now And Forever” was written and performed by the wonderful Carole King. “Cough Syrup” is originally performed by Young the Giant.

****Taking the High Road – Chapter 2** **

 

“At least now all of your teammates get to know what kind of guy you really are,” Santana said with a smirk.

“Now get out of my auditorium,” Artie demanded, giving Sebastian a narrow-eyed stare.

With one last threatening glare, Sebastian rose from his seat and stalked out the back, slamming the door behind him. The New Directions and Warblers onstage breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Nick turned to Santana and Kurt. “Thank you,” he said solemnly. “Now that he knows we all know the truth, he won’t be so keen to come after us, or you.”

“Just please tell me that wasn’t the only copy of that tape,” Jeff added, only half in jest.

“Of course not, Surfer Boy,” Santana said, rolling her eyes in the general direction of Jeff’s floppy blond hair. “I might have decided to stay on the side of good in this instance, but I’m not stupid.”

“We have a copy, as insurance,” Kurt said quietly. “I don’t think Sebastian will try to hurt us again, but if he does, Headmaster Davis is going to hear about it. We’ll hand him the proof about the slushie. We’ve given Sebastian a chance to play fair and stay in his father’s good graces. I’m hoping that he takes it.”

“We don’t want to beat you at Regionals because you’ve lost one of your leads,” Rachel said, her smile taking any sting out of her words. “If we win, we want it to be deserved. We know you guys are going to bring your A-game.”

“We will,” David agreed, stepping forward. “It wouldn’t be fair to any of us if we didn’t – and let’s face it, Blaine would murder us,” he added with a chuckle. “He has high expectations.”

“That he does,” Kurt said, grinning for the first time since they had all walked into the auditorium. “He expects you all to kill it; he’s fully aware of your capabilities.”

“Speaking of Blaine,” Trent said, a trifle awkwardly, “we owe you an apology, Kurt.”

Kurt inclined his head. “You do,” he acknowledged, his blue eyes bright. “But I’m grateful for what you tried to do. Blaine was your friend long before I was, and I know you were trying to keep him safe.”

“We thought it was just a slushie, Kurt, truly. We never would have let Sebastian use it if we had known what he had done to it,” Nick said sincerely. “You told us how awful those things are when they hit you, but we knew that you of all people would be able to handle it.” His lips twitched. “Actually, we were kind of looking forward to the telling off that Sebastian was going to get from you.”

Kurt smiled grimly. “He’s had several, not that they ever seem to register,” he said.

“Still, it shouldn’t have happened,” David said soberly. “You are our friend too, Kurt, and it was wrong of us to choose between you and Blaine, or for us to even think that we had to. You two are a package deal now, and what hurts one of you hurts the other.”

“We were scared,” Jeff admitted. “Scared for ourselves, scared for Blaine, and too shaken up to see that two of our best former Warblers were going to feel destroyed over what we were doing.”

“Sebastian is . . . unpredictable, to say the least,” Kurt agreed. “You were right to be scared. _I’ve_ been scared, and more for Blaine than for myself. I never wanted him to get hurt,” he finished, his voice shaking a bit.

“Neither did we,” Trent said pleadingly. “Help us make it up to him, Kurt, _please_?”

“I can’t make Blaine forgive you,” Kurt sighed. “That’s up to him.”

“At least give us a chance to earn his forgiveness?” Nick asked. “Let us try. Help us try.”

The other New Directions had been watching Kurt’s exchange with the Warblers with various expressions of interest, and now Santana stepped forward with a scowl.

“Let me make one thing clear,” she said sharply. “Blaine might be a hobbit with an unhealthy gel addiction, but he is as much part of our family now as he is of yours. You hurt him, we call you out. It’s that simple. I believe you want to mend fences with Blaine, but you did hurt him, and in a way that wasn’t just physical. He doesn’t have to forgive you, and you might have to live with the fact that he won’t.”

“We know,” David said quietly. “But we have to make the attempt. We’ll keep making them until he knows we’re sincere.”

“I’ll help,” Kurt said decisively, looking at the boys. “You are my friends, and Blaine loves you like family. Part of being a family is being willing to forgive and give each other second chances. We’ve all had to do that more than enough,” he said, glancing at the other New Directions, and they smiled sheepishly.

“Does this mean we’re forgiven?” Trent asked hopefully.

Kurt smiled slightly; he really did love the Warblers, despite how angry he still was over what had happened. “As far as I’m concerned, yes. I can’t speak for Blaine.”

Trent nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Kurt replied. “Wes is still at Blaine’s house looking after him, at least until his plane flies out tomorrow, so I think we can kill two birds with one stone in this process.”

“Show Wes that we’re not idiots and we’re still his Warblers, and show Blaine that we still love him,” Jeff summed up.

“Exactly,” Kurt said. “Let’s brainstorm a bit.”

Rachel stepped forward with a beaming smile. “As it happens, I have an idea.”

* * *

Several hours later, Kurt tapped on the door of Blaine’s room, poking his head around the doorframe. “Hey there.”

Wes and Blaine looked up at Kurt’s knock; Blaine had been leaning his head against the headboard, and Wes was holding a book, which he must have been reading aloud.

“Hey you,” Blaine said fondly. “I missed you. Come sit.”

Kurt shook his head. “Not yet.”

Blaine noticed that Kurt was bouncing on the balls of his feet, something he only did when he was incredibly excited or nervous. He narrowed his eyes in thought.

“Kurt, what are you up to?” he said curiously.

Kurt glanced behind him, and then let the door swing open. David, Nick, Jeff, Trent, Cameron, Andrew, and Thad stood there, along with Rachel and Finn. All of the Warblers were still in uniform, and all wore varying expressions of nervousness. Rachel and Finn also seemed apprehensive, though they stood resolutely behind the group of Dalton boys.

Blaine swallowed hard. His face had turned to stone when he saw his old friends; he felt his jaw tighten and his lips compress as his eyes flickered between the Warblers and Kurt. He knew Wes had gone very still beside him, waiting to see what the Warblers would do.

Blaine was torn; Kurt could see the anger and hurt in his expression, but there was also yearning. He missed his friends, but he no longer trusted them. His gaze returned to Kurt, and Kurt saw the question there.

_Why have you brought them here?_

Kurt walked over to the bed and took his boyfriend’s hand.

“Give them a chance, love,” he murmured. “I know you don’t think you want to talk to them right now, but they have something they’d like to say to you.”

Nick stepped forward. “Blaine, you don’t have to say anything,” he said earnestly. “We know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. We know that what we did was wrong. We just wanted to apologize and let you know how much we do care.”

Blaine didn’t move except to strengthen his hold on Kurt’s hand, but Wes leaned thoughtfully back in his chair as the Warblers began to harmonize. Nick’s clear tenor took up the lead.

_Now and forever, you are a part of me_

_And the memory cuts like a knife_

_Didn't we find the ecstasy, didn't we share the daylight_

_When you walked into my life_

Blaine’s chest constricted. They had chosen their song well. Knives seemed like the only thing that accurately described the pain he felt when he thought about how much the Warblers had meant to him, and how everything they had built as friends had all fallen apart with one ill-considered decision.

They had transposed the song, the musician in Blaine noted absently; they had lowered the key a bit for all of the male voices.

_Now and forever, I'll remember_

_All the promises still unbroken_

_And think about all the words between us_

_That never needed to be spoken_

Anger flared up inside him once more, white-hot and ferocious. The promises they had all made to him, and he to them, had been unspoken but assumed, cherished, trusted, and believed in. They were his friends; they had promised to be there for him, protect him, _love_ him – and they had. Perhaps not from the first day, but certainly during his first term, they had renewed his faith in the goodness of people and reassured him that he could be loved for exactly who he was.  In the following two and a half years, they had become a family.

And then they had shattered his faith all over again.

He was gripping Kurt’s hand so tightly that his fingers were numb.

_We had a moment, just one moment_

_That will last beyond a dream, beyond a lifetime_

_We are the lucky ones_

_Some people never get to do all we got to do_

_Now and forever, I will always think of you_  
  
Blaine met Nick’s eyes for a fraction of a note, and his fury faltered at the regret he saw there. There had been _so many_ moments with the Warblers that he would remember forever, that had made his life at Dalton joyful. Could he really afford to alienate the Warblers, cut them out of his life? They had made a terrible, costly error of judgment, but their intentions had been good.

_Didn't we come together_

_Didn't we live together_

_Didn't we cry together_

_Didn't we play together_

_Didn't we love together_

_And together we lit up the world_  
  
As a group, they had lit up Dalton, that was true. They had lit up every stage they were on – and if it hadn’t been for one incredible, impromptu performance, one chance encounter on his way there, Blaine might not have ever met the boy sitting next to him. The love of his life, the person who held his heart.

_I miss the tears, I miss the laughter_

_I miss the day we met and all that followed after_

_Sometimes I wish I could always be with you_

_The way we used to do_

_Now and forever, I will always think of you_

_Now and forever, I will always be with you_  
  
Blaine fought against the tears that stung his eyes as the Warblers finished. The truth was that he did miss Dalton. He missed the camaraderie, the safety, the joking and pranks. He missed the sense of family that he had found with the Warblers. He missed feeling safe in his own skin, being confident in his abilities. McKinley had the unfortunate – perhaps devastating – effect of wiping away all of those certainties. The only certainty he found anymore was on a stage or in Kurt’s arms.

The Warblers were regarding him with solemn faces, and Blaine felt Wes’s hand come to rest on his shoulder.  

David stepped forward this time, his dark eyes sorrowful. “We miss you, Blaine,” he said softly. “We were trying to protect you, but we went about it entirely the wrong way, and we hurt Kurt in the process. There’s no excuse for that, not when you love him and he was one of us. We just hope you can forgive us, eventually.”

Blaine struggled to speak for a moment, working his lips without making any sound.

“I forgive you, I think, at least for what happened to me,” he finally whispered. “I miss you all, too, more than I can say.” He looked at David, then Nick, then Trent, and around to the rest of the group. “It means a lot to me that you tried to keep me from getting hurt, but you did it at Kurt’s expense. You went along with that asinine plan of Sebastian’s, and I’m not sure I can forgive that. I need time.”

Jeff stepped forward this time, his green eyes bright. “We understand, B. As long as we have a chance to earn back your trust, that’s enough.”

“You do,” Blaine nodded. “A chance. I can’t promise more than that.” His voice wavered a bit at the end, and he fell silent again, closing his one good eye.

It was Kurt’s touch he felt this time, a gentle press of lips to his hair.

“Thank you, Blaine.” Nick again. “We’ll go now, but you’ll hear from us. Thank you for listening.”

Blaine heard the shuffle of footsteps, and he felt more than heard Wes rise from his side to follow the singers. Then Kurt’s arms came around him, and he buried his face in his boyfriend’s shoulder, blocking out the rest of the world.

Wes followed the Warblers out into the hall and down the stairs. As they filed out the Andersons’ front door, Wes grabbed David and Nick by the arms. His expression was approving, but his eyes were fierce with conviction.

“After that, I’m willing to believe you all have sorted out your priorities,” he said. “Don’t hurt him again.”

“We won’t,” David promised, and Nick nodded in agreement. “Never again.”

* * *

After the Warblers’ touching apology, Kurt watched Blaine like a hawk. Blaine _seemed_ fine; the sincere contrition and the long explanation of his friends from Dalton had apparently healed the worst of the emotional damage related to the sing-off.  Blaine had cheerfully surprised Kurt at the party on Valentine’s Day, his eye was completely mended from the recent trauma, and he was back in school and apparently back to enjoying glee.

However, Kurt knew Blaine too well to be entirely fooled. He didn’t miss the signs of fatigue on his boyfriend’s face in the mornings, or the occasional unfocused stares in class or at the lunch table. Blaine might be doing his best to convince himself and everyone else that he was recovered and happy, but Kurt knew that he was still hurting over some of the things that had happened. He wasn’t going to push Blaine to talk to him on such a sensitive subject, but he did his best to be with him as much as possible: at their lockers before school, in between classes when he could, at glee rehearsal, and after school on the days they could manage it. Often they would end up at one of their homes, studying, listening to music, and enjoying each other’s company for several hours before having to part ways. Kurt had been tempted numerous times to try and get Blaine to open up, but every time he began to speak, something prevented him from saying the words.  Blaine would come to him when he was ready. Kurt just hoped it would be of his own volition and not when some external force made him snap.

It wasn’t until Sebastian went back on the offensive, threatening to post doctored pictures of Finn online unless Rachel dropped out of the Regionals competition, that Kurt saw the cracks in Blaine’s façade begin to widen. Shouting at Mr. Schue was hardly something Blaine made a habit of, being the ever-polite and conciliatory person he was. He was angry about what Sebastian was doing, without a doubt, and indignant over the fact that Sebastian might get away with it yet again, but it wasn’t nearly that simple.

After Blaine took his seat again, he leaned over to Kurt. “Meet me in the auditorium when we’re finished?” he whispered, and Kurt nodded, taking a long breath. He had a feeling he was about to see some of the real truths behind all of his worries.

He walked into the wings of the stage only to see Blaine pacing about downstage, clearly agitated and full of nervous energy.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently. “You seemed kind of upset. You know, Sebastian –”

“I don’t want to talk about Sebastian anymore,” Blaine said abruptly, and Kurt stopped, not sure how to react to Blaine’s sharp tone. “I’m not angry at you,” Blaine backtracked hastily, his eyes wide and apologetic. “I just don’t want to waste any more time on _him_. I want to concentrate on winning. I have a song I’ve been wanting to try out; the theme for Regionals this year is ‘Inspiration,’ and I think this fits the bill. Would you like to hear it?”

Kurt nodded, smiling a little, and took a seat at the front of the stage, where Blaine had conveniently placed a chair. Blaine placed himself in front of the microphone as the band began to play, and Kurt recognized the opening bars of “Cough Syrup.”

_Life's too short to even care at all, oh_

_I'm losing my mind losing my mind losing control, oh, oh_

_These fishes in the sea they're staring at me, oh, oh_

_A wet world aches for a beat of a drum, oh_

_If I could find a way to see this straight_

_I'd run away_

_To some fortune that I, I should have found by now_

_I'm waiting for this cough syrup to come down, come down._  
  
Kurt sat perfectly still as Blaine sang, mesmerized and terrified in equal measure. Blaine was an incredibly talented, breathtaking performer, Kurt knew that, but this went beyond wanting to inspire a crowd. Blaine was pouring out his confusion and pain in the only way he knew how, through music that expressed his feelings. Everything that Blaine had been through, from the bullying at his old public school and the attack at the Sadie Hawkins dance, through Sebastian’s harassment and the doctored slushie that had almost permanently harmed him, was suddenly exposed for Kurt to see. He had been right; Blaine had been hiding it well, but he was hurting from all of it. The slushie incident was only the latest in a long string of injustices and betrayals. 

The anguish on Blaine’s face was almost too much for Kurt to bear.

As the song ended, Kurt saw tears glittering on Blaine’s cheeks, and his own eyes welled up and overflowed as he flew out of his seat. He wrapped his arms around Blaine, holding him fiercely and ignoring the surprised stiffening of Blaine’s muscles before the dark-haired singer relaxed into his embrace, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s torso.

“You listen to me, Blaine Anderson,” Kurt whispered fervently, burying his head in Blaine’s neck and placing his lips right next to his boyfriend’s ear. “I love you. You are the most compassionate and loving human being I have ever had the fortune of knowing. You are strong, beautiful, and brave, and I will never, ever let anyone take that from you. Not the ghosts of those boys who bullied you and beat you, not Karofsky, not the Warblers, and certainly not Sebastian.”

Blaine’s fingers twisted into the fabric of Kurt’s sweater, gripping at his back, and Kurt felt Blaine shudder in his arms.

“I don’t want to think about him anymore, but the truth is,” and Blaine’s voice broke as he drew in a harsh breath, “the truth is I can’t _stop_ thinking about him. In – in the dreams he becomes one of – _them_ , and I can’t get away from him, and it never _ends_.”

Blaine gave in then, finally, and cried, muffling his tears in Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt thought his heart might shatter into pieces just from the sound of it. Blaine had cried, they had both cried, when Kurt had returned to McKinley and left Dalton, but Kurt had never heard him cry like this, with deep, wrenching sobs that racked his whole body. He held Blaine more tightly still, anchoring him through the storm of emotions that he was finally releasing.

“Sometimes some of the Warblers are there, too,” Blaine gasped, his words hardly recognizable. “They were my friends, Kurt, they – they were my _family_. How could they?”

“They were afraid, love,” Kurt whispered, his own tears making his voice thick. “They were afraid for you and afraid for themselves. It doesn’t excuse what they did to you, in any way, but they made a very human mistake.”

Blaine’s sobs began anew, and Kurt sank with him to the floor of the stage, cradling Blaine against his chest and murmuring soothing phrases into his ear.

“They love you,” Kurt assured him, over and over. “They love you. I love you. I’m here. I’ll always be here. It will be all right.”

Kurt had no idea how long they knelt there, how long he whispered to Blaine, how long Blaine wept against him, but it didn’t matter in the slightest. Nothing could have kept him from Blaine in those moments.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said eventually, lifting his head and wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his red sweater. “God, Kurt, I’m sorry –”

“Don’t you dare be sorry,” Kurt said softly, shushing him with a finger to his lips. “I’ve been watching you ever since this happened, waiting for you to let go of everything you’ve been bottling up. You can’t keep everything you’re feeling inside, Blaine. It will never get better if you do that.”

“I’m not sure it ever will,” Blaine said tiredly, looking away from Kurt. “I thought I had finally put all of this behind me, the bullying, the Sadie Hawkins dance  - and now it’s all back, almost as bad as it was right after it happened.”

“You should have told me,” Kurt whispered, pressing his lips to Blaine’s forehead. “I knew something wasn’t right. It will get better, Blaine. I’m here, as much as you need me to be.”

“Kurt, you’ve already spent so much time looking after me,” Blaine protested. “You shouldn’t have to –”

“I _want_ to,” Kurt interrupted firmly. He caressed Blaine’s face, rubbing his thumb over Blaine’s cheekbone. “Let me help you.”

Blaine nodded, his eyes growing ever so slightly brighter and a small smile tugging at his lips for a moment before his expression became solemn again. “Cooper’s coming home next week. You can meet him, if you like.”

“Of _course_ I would like to,” Kurt said, aghast at the implication that he wouldn’t care about Blaine’s family. “He’s your brother.”

“You might want to reserve judgment until you meet him,” Blaine said sardonically. He shifted position until his legs were over Kurt’s lap and he was resting his head in the crook of Kurt’s neck. He placed a soft kiss to the sensitive spot behind Kurt’s ear, and Kurt shivered, reflexively tightening his hold around Blaine’s shoulders. “I am so lucky to have you.”

“We’re lucky to have each other,” Kurt countered, pulling Blaine closer still and resting one hand on the back of Blaine’s head. “I was the luckiest person in the world to run into you that day at Dalton.”

Kurt felt the quiet chuckle that escaped from Blaine, and the tension in his body unwound just a fraction. “Such an adorable spy."

“Only you get away with using that word,” Kurt huffed in mock indignation. “Elegant, yes. Polite, yes. Adorable only to you.”

Blaine lifted his head, and Kurt caught his breath when he saw that Blaine truly was smiling now, his eyes filled again with the soft tenderness Kurt was used to seeing, along with a flicker of mischievousness. “I’ll always think you’re adorable.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, slipping for a moment into diva mode solely to make Blaine smile more. “As long as you always find me _other_ things, too, I suppose I can live with that.”

As Kurt had hoped, Blaine’s smile widened, and he leaned forward to brush his lips against Kurt’s. “I think I can promise that.”

They simply sat for a moment, foreheads touching, arms intertwined, fingers stroking cheeks and hair and temples.

“Could you stay with me tonight?” Blaine breathed, his voice barely audible. “We don’t have to – to do anything. I just want to be near you.”

Kurt nodded. “Of course I can. I’ll call my dad.”

Blaine’s eyes widened. “On second thought, never mind. Definitely not a good idea.”

Kurt laughed. “Blaine, I’ve stayed at your house numerous times, and Dad _likes_ you. He trusts you. When are you going to get that through your head?”

“Maybe when your father stops being so scary,” Blaine muttered. Kurt shook his head and rolled his eyes again, shifting Blaine off his lap and rising to his feet. He offered his hands to Blaine, who took them and pulled himself up. When they were both standing, Kurt wound his arms around Blaine’s torso again.

“You’re going to be fine, Blaine, I promise you,” Kurt said. “We’ve been through so much already, and we’ll get through this too.” His blue eyes were shining with love as he looked at Blaine, and he leaned forward to give his boyfriend another swift, earnest kiss.

“I love you,” Blaine murmured against Kurt’s mouth, his hands still tangled in Kurt’s hair. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Kurt replied. “Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for loving me.”

As the two of them left the stage, hands intertwined, Blaine knew that he was on the road to healing. The Warblers had begun to make amends, Kurt was unharmed physically, and his own physical injuries were finally repaired. The psychological wounds were deeper, but even those would heal with time, as long as they were handled with care.

He and Kurt had each other, and through all of the difficulties they both had faced, they were still learning how to love each other more deeply. He could never be grateful enough for that.


End file.
